


Playing with Fire and Laserguns

by kitana



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, Hostage Situations, Implied Violence, M/M, Sibling Incest, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-22
Updated: 2006-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-15 15:28:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1309828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitana/pseuds/kitana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reno tested his legs. They were free, but they hurt with that cramping sort of throb after a hard day’s work and a ten-mile jog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing with Fire and Laserguns

When Reno awoke, his body ached all over, and he could only recall bits and pieces as to why. Last he remembered he and Rude had been fighting those Sephiroth clones, regrettably getting their asses kicked up and down Midgar’s main road. He and Rude had taken some pretty serious hits, and the one with the short hair had to especially pack a wallop with the way he knocked Rude right off his feet. Reno’s seen Rude fall hard, but seeing the tall man take those hits piled a sympathy pain right on top of his own real pain.

The redhead blinked as he sat up, head pounding. His goggles were digging into his forehead painfully, and he could just about feel the swelling of his right eye. Right off the bat, he knew it was going to be a damn ugly purple for the next couple of days. Reno tried to bring his hands to his forehead and massage the pain away, but they were heavy and every single muscle seemed to complain. A glance down gave him all the answer he needed. On his arms were those heavy metal wrist cuffs oft used for ShinRa’s prisoners – information volunteers is what you would call them if you wanted to pretty up the situation, that is.

Reno tested his legs. They were free, but they hurt with that cramping sort of throb after a hard day’s work and a ten-mile jog. All in all, he figured that he wasn’t too banged up; his clothes seemed to have taken more of a beating. Yet it wasn’t much more than what his usual missions threw at him.

The cuffs on his wrist and a quick assessment of the room told Reno rather quickly that he sure as hell wasn’t in the infirmary, so it was natural of him to ask:

“Where the fuck am I?”

Like an answer, a metal door slid open with a loud bang, causing Reno to whip his head around. The headache that had receded to the back of his head came forward again with surprising forcefulness, and he winced at the whiplash effect of his movement.

“Hey, brother,” a deep voice called out. “The pretty one’s awake.”

Slowly this time, Reno looked up to the source of the voice. _Oh, shit._ He couldn’t even voice his thoughts as realization dawned on him. It was the biggest of the three clones from earlier, all cleaned up and shiny in his polished and repaired leather suit standing in that doorway. The doorway itself was wide enough, and Reno was small enough; he could’ve made it past that hulking mass of man and made a run for it if only his legs would do anything besides throb and protest.

Soon though, the redhead’s slight chance at slipping through the door passed him by as the other clone, the slim one with the long hair, came to stand beside his ‘brother’. Reno stared at them for what seemed like an eternity as they whispered amongst themselves, only able to pick up randomly dropped names. Apparently the big one was called ‘Loz’, and the one next to him was ‘Yazoo’.

Reno cursed under his breath. The redhead already had a penchant for impatience and they weren’t making it any goddamn better.

“Hey, bastards! Stop whispering like sissies and tell me where the hell I am!” Reno finally exclaimed, fed up with the hurting, the being kept in the dark, and _fuck_ – where was Rude?

Two pairs of bright mako-emerald eyes turned to Reno, and he swallowed with unfamiliar nervousness. Though he didn’t let it show. He knew how strong these guys were, but they sure as hell weren’t going to chain him up somewhere and ignore him. If he couldn’t beat the shit out of them, he could annoy the hell out of them until he learned what he wanted to know.

The slender clone – _Yazoo_ , Reno thought, tucking the name away for later; he might need to know – strode towards Reno, and even though he kept up his normal façade of don’t-give-a-shit, the smile Yazoo had was definitely creepy as fuck.

What made it worse is that it was aimed at him.

Yazoo bent down in front of Reno, and with one long finger, tilted the redhead’s chin up. Defiant aquamarine eyes meet cool ones of a similar colour. “Brother says that we can do what we want to you, since you’re not that important. I would suggest that you try your best to not piss me off.”

“Fuck you,” Reno said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to spit in the silver-haired clone’s face. Hell, he’d be pretty damn hot if he weren’t hell-bent on destruction. And Jenova. Reno couldn’t forget about Jenova. All of this stemmed from her anyway, that outer space bitch.

One thing Reno couldn’t hide, though, was the startled hunch of his shoulders that came from the other voice in his ear. It was Loz, obviously, but Reno doesn’t recall seeing him move. Damn it.

“Brother isn’t nice when he’s angry.”

Reno sneered. “I just want to know where I am, and where my partner is.”

Yazoo straightened up and sighed as though it was a burden to answer. “If you must know, he’s fine; though I’d worry about myself if I were you.”

Reno rolled his eyes, his expression becoming derisive. ‘Yeah? And why should I be so _worried_ about myself, huh?”

There was a momentary pause, and look that Loz and Yazoo exchanged made Reno wary. Suddenly, Reno was lifted from behind and let out an unexpected yelp, forced to try and stand on wobbly and sore legs. Loz’s arms came around the redhead’s chest, pulling him close and steadying his legs. Reno wasn’t pulled too far, but he knew he was being dragged towards something that would give the bigger clone more leverage and staying power.

The Turk could already sense where this was going, and he didn’t like it one bit. Yet, there was not much he could do about it with his wrists chained together and his legs imitating jelly. Really, Reno should’ve learned when to shut up by now.

“Strip him,” was Yazoo’s simple command, and Loz obeyed instantly.

Reno hissed – all the rough treatment up until now and the sudden chill of the air as his shirt was literally ripped open began to irritate the tiny scrapes and cuts on the Turk’s chest. He immediately regretted ditching his jacket during his earlier fight against the clones.

“Wha—! Hey, back off, you sick fucks!” Reno blurted out when Loz’s hands slipped under his own to grasp at the waistband of his pants. The thin uniform pants tore easily under Loz’s grip, and as the fabric pooled at his ankles, the only thing that stood between Reno and Yazoo’s questing gloved fingers were the silk boxers he’d nabbed from Rufus’ bureau some odd wild nights ago.

Reno wanted to kick out at the slender clone, or break away from the bulky one, or _something_ , but his body was responding way too slowly for his tastes. Yazoo’s worn leather gloves scratched at his cuts, thumbed over dried beads of blood, and generally made Reno increasingly uncomfortable.

Yazoo pressed up close to Reno, successfully smothering the Turk between himself and Loz, and buried his face into the crook of Reno’s neck. He smelled the faint remnants of sweat and blood, and the scent of fear and anticipation assaulted the clone like a particularly sweet-smelling perfume.

“I told you,” Yazoo said slowly, breathily, making sure every word sunk in, “That you wouldn’t want to aggravate me. You’ve given me every reason to hurt you.”

Reno cursed audibly, dredging up every dirty word he knew, and he tried to push against Yazoo to dislodge him. The movement only came out as wanton. Behind him Loz grunted, and it was then that the Turk felt the firmness that pressed into his ass and lower back.

_Shit, shit, shit._

Loz pulled Reno away from Yazoo and back with him until he leaned against the table behind him, digging his fingers into Reno’s bruised thighs to spread them wider. Yazoo advanced again, and he fit in the space between Reno’s legs perfectly. He grasped the wrist cuffs holding Reno’s hands together and undid them easily, letting blood rush back to Reno’s wrists.

“Goddamn,” The Turk whispered, his wrists cramped and chafed. Immediately, Loz snatched one wrist and Yazoo snatched the other, making sure that the redhead couldn’t push them away, even if he tried, despite the very obvious fact that his wrists were joining his legs in the land of jellified limbs.

Reno sucked in a breath when Yazoo pulled his earlobe between his lips, sucking and flicking his tongue over tender flesh. Loz’s free hand roamed over the expanse of pale and bruised chest, coming up to pinch the redhead’s nipple roughly. Reno jerked in the clones’ grasp, and he didn’t want to admit that albeit the fucked-up situation, he was getting hot.

Really hot.

Reno felt every inch of warmth as Loz licked his neck, as Yazoo kissed his way across his jaw line to his lips. He’d considered making it hard for the clone, but when Loz bit into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, he gasped, and Yazoo took it as an invitation to his mouth.

Yazoo thrust his tongue between Reno’s lips, not giving the Turk a chance to breathe or respond. Reno moaned deep in his throat, trying to breathe through his nose. Yazoo withdrew from the kiss only to bite the redhead’s lower lip hard, hard enough for Reno to yelp and taste blood. The kiss left Reno feeling lightheaded and his lips fairly cool, as if he’d been sucking on ice.

Loz was impatient, rocking against Reno’s ass savagely, pushing Reno’s crotch into Yazoo’s. Reno could now say, with way too much ease, that he was caught between rock and a hard place.

Yazoo leaned further against Reno to capture Loz’s lips in a fierce, yet tender kiss. “Patience.” He replied to an unspoken question between the two.

Loz’s fingers left Reno’s chest, and the Turk could feel the clone’s hand first unzipping his own pants, then ripping at his boxers. In the back of his mind he yelled that _hell, those were expensive and I’m totally going to lose some fucking pay over those_!

Reno was completely exposed to the cool air of the room with nothing but a tattered shirt as coverage, but the two warm leather-clad bodies surrounding him made up for his semi-nakedness almost entirely. “Fuck,” Reno groaned when Loz’s fingers came back up to his nipples again. His cock was rapidly stiffening and Yazoo licking at the cuts on his shoulder blade didn’t make it any better at all.

He was rocking and squirming between the two clones now, trying to build up some sort of friction to soothe the ache in his groin. All other pains were dissipating in the wake of his newly acquired desire. There were too many hands on Reno now, touching too many intimate spots on his body. He moaned shamelessly when fingers – he didn’t care whose – pressed against his asshole.

The gloved fingers were slick with what Reno could only guess was saliva, and he groaned in pain at their entry. “Hurts, fucking bastard…” he breathed, hardly audible.

“Now, brother?” Loz’s deep voice rumbled, deepened further by the barely controlled lust he was experiencing.

Yazoo smiled that creepy-as-fuck smile again, and it was as cryptic as it was pleased. “Yes, now.”

Yazoo’s fingers slipped from Reno’s ass as Loz gripped him by the thigh and lifted him easily further on to his lap. Reno felt Loz’s hard length pressing against his ass, and he had the fleeting thought that he would practically rip him apart. Just that thought made his cock his jump in anticipation.

It burned on impact when Loz forced the head of his cock inside of Reno, and the redhead grunted with the practiced force of trying to relax. Loz was thick and long and every inch seemed like a mile; by the time Loz was fully seated within Reno, the Turk had broken out into a fine sweat and was breathing raggedly.

The larger clone didn’t wait, though, and he held Reno’s legs wide as he began to thrust into him. Reno’s moans were broken and muffled by Yazoo’s lips on his own. The slimmer clone found one of his nipples and began toying with it in earnest, causing the Turk to shiver and bite at his lips and moan louder.

Between the large cock filling him and his own cock pressed against worn leather and the cool lips and tongue invading his mouth, Reno could scarcely breathe. His fingers clenched in the clones’ grasp; he wanted to hold on to something to ride out the impending wave that was threatening to take him. Loz’s thrusts were becoming erratic inside of him, and each stroke pushed him further to a blissfully euphoric place.

Yazoo bit Reno’s tongue and sucked away the hurt, undoing Reno completely. His head fell back onto Loz’s shoulder as he came, trembling and bucking in the clones’ grip, mouth open in wordless ecstasy.

With his body thoroughly wracked and exhausted, Reno’s eyes slid closed and he slipped into familiar blackness.

Yazoo chuckled lightly as Loz breathed heavily, completely spent. A round of slow applause drifted from the door, and the two clones looked up to see their third brother.

“I’m proud of you,” he said simply.


End file.
